Dark of Night
by GorensBrownFolder
Summary: Clark Palmer gets his ultimate revenge against Clayton Webb for his unforgivable crime.


All JAG characters are the property of Donald Bellasario, Bellasarius Productions, Paramount and CBS. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is made from this endeavour. Casey McDaniels is the sole property of the author and as such is protected by the copyright laws of the United States and Australia.

**Dark of Night**

Tonight's the night.  
I sit waiting.  
In the car across the street.  
Taking the much folded photo out of my wallet.  
I stare at it again.  
Reminding myself why I do this.  
Remembering what it's for.  
I stare at the three happy people in the photo.  
The young parents, and their little boy.

I see my eyes in the rear vision mirror.  
A man you wouldn't recognise stares back at me.  
Oh Tracy.  
The Clark you knew is gone.  
He died with you that night.  
But I know you'd want me to do this.  
Know you'd want justice to be served.  
For your sake I do this.  
For Dylan's sake I must.

He's 7 now Tracy.  
He's just learning to talk again.  
In a strange way I've been given a second chance.  
All the things I missed when he was little,  
First steps  
First Words.  
I get to see them now.  
But instead of joy  
I feel anger  
I feel pain.  
He did this to Dylan.  
He took you away from me.  
And tonight he pays.

I watch as he arrives home.  
Driving his red sports car.  
His partner's in the passenger seat.  
She'll die tonight.  
She was there.  
She was part of it too.  
He says something and she laughs.  
And they disappear inside.

I get out of my car.  
Walk to his window.  
Tonight, I make sure it's done right.  
Tonight, I do it myself.  
Face to face.  
I'll kill her first.  
Make him feel the pain  
Of losing the one he loves.  
Then I'll explain.  
Before I kill him.  
So he knows why he's dying.  
Knows it's for you.

I look at them through the window.  
Sitting on the sofa together, talking.  
We used to sit like that.  
Hours and hours of just talking.  
You understood me.  
Knew who I was.  
Knew what I wanted.  
But He took you away.  
He took away Dylan's childhood.  
And he has to pay.

I think back to that night.  
I was so far away.  
The Cuban's came and took you and Dylan away.  
Holding you for ransom.  
Then The Company organised a 'rescue'.  
Headed by Him.  
But the Cuban's had been tipped off.  
And it all went to hell.  
And I went with it.

They told me you had tried to save Dylan  
Tried to take the bullet for him.  
But they shot him anyway.  
He was in a coma for 3 years Tracy.  
3 years of waiting by his bedside.  
Holding a tiny hand in mine.  
Watching his chest rise and fall.  
Waiting for him to wake up and say "Daddy"  
Then he woke.  
And I saw that haunted look in his eyes.  
And I knew what I had to do.

So now I stand here.  
Pistol cold and heavy in my hand.  
Waiting for the right moment.  
Waiting.  
I've done a lot of that.  
But the wait is over.  
He gets up and walks into the kitchen.  
I make my move.

I'm in the front door before he knows I'm there.  
Her startled gasp gives me pleasure.  
She knows why I'm here.  
I can see it in her eyes.  
She knows she's going to die.  
Webb sees me and grabs for his gun.  
But he's too slow.

The silencer on the gun makes a low whipping sound.  
She falls to her knees.  
His composure fades.  
Replaced by fear.  
He holds her.  
Making her promises he can't keep.  
Telling her to hold on.  
Begging her not to go.  
But, with a soft sigh  
She slips away.

I should be smiling.  
Should have some comment to make.  
But his pain is all I need to see.  
It's victory enough.  
He looks up at me.  
Silently comprehending as I point the gun at him.  
I can see by the look on his face.  
He wants to go.  
Wants to join her.  
Doesn't want to live without her.

Denying him that one thing.  
Is my ultimate victory.  
I turn and leave him sitting there.  
Holding her in his arms.  
His life in tatters.  
A broken man.  
As I walk out a victor  
Into the Dark of Night.


End file.
